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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24822070">The Light You Shine</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Bentley/pseuds/The_Bentley'>The_Bentley</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Aziraphale's Bookshop (Good Omens), Comfort, Concerned Aziraphale (Good Omens), Concerned Crowley (Good Omens), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gay Pride, Happy Ending, Healing, Homophobia, M/M, Mild Blood, Pride Parades, Suicide Attempt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:22:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,707</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24822070</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Bentley/pseuds/The_Bentley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>More of the parade marched by along with a broad-shouldered person with very pink hair who almost ran into the pair.  They called out apologies with a sheepish smile and moved on.  Behind them darted a slim dark-haired teenage boy hoping to use their bulk to hide.  He broke off to head off into the car park not far from where Aziraphale and Crowley stood.  Crowley noticed him out of the corner of his eye and all but physically smelled the desperation and despair coming off of him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Angel, I think we might have a problem.”</em>
</p><p>Aziraphale and Crowley help out a LBGT+ teenager in need.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale &amp; Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>108</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Light You Shine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is my fic for Pride Month this year. Content warning: suicide attempt, no detailed explanation.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Pride in London had had to be postponed because of the lockdown caused by the COVID-19 pandemic, but finally restrictions had been lifted and one crisp autumn day the much-awaited celebrations began.  In a bookshop in Soho that looked no different today than it did any other day, two beings prepared to join the festivities that would be celebrated so joyously by thousands. </p><p>They would carry no tiny rainbow flags on sticks, or wear colourful clothing, or paint their faces up with the colours of one LGBT-plus group or another, but that did not mean they were not completely invested in the celebrations they were about to attend.  They would merely blend into the crowd looking like another couple of tourists taking in the festivities while they enjoyed themselves and protected the community during this time however they could.  There had been several times in the past they had helped keep things calm.  They had quietly sent protestors packing before they were even noticed and kept an extra eye out from problems the years of the Orlando nightclub shooting and London Bridge terror attack, among other things.  When a small anti-trans group took over the parade briefly in 2018, lying on the ground so that the march could not continue, Aziraphale sent off his angelic powers of persuasion to convince them to disperse.  Crowley quietly cursed them with many years of bad luck; an act he never confessed to his partner.</p><p>They would insert themselves into the celebrations the exact same way they did with all events they attended throughout human history – silently, anonymously and without any attention-attracting fanfare. </p><p>Exiting the bookshop that was along the route this year, they stepped out into the excitement.  Crowley shoved his hands in his pockets and watched revelers in bright gear go by as Aziraphale threaded his arm through Crowley’s.  A woman with a bouquet of small pride flags twirled in her rainbow tutu before laughingly handing one to Aziraphale.  He took it graciously with many thanks, tucking the stick through a buttonhole on his frock coat.  People tended to not hand Crowley items, not that he minded one bit. </p><p>“It’s you,” he said to Aziraphale as they found themselves a conveniently open spot along the parade route.</p><p>“It’s us,” Aziraphale replied, taking the demon’s hand.  He had had to untangle his arm from Crowley’s to thread his acquired flag through his buttonhole.</p><p>They stood silently for the longest time watching lovingly decorated floats and crowds of exuberant participants march by.  The float they were currently observing was extremely opulent and covered with beautifully dressed drag queens who waved and called out to the crowds.</p><p>Aziraphale turned to Crowley.  “Do you truly understand gender?”</p><p>“Not in the slightest,” the demon responded.  “But I think we can fake it pretty well by calling people by their chosen pronouns, not making assumptions about people because they present one way or another and not even getting involved with the stupid idea of gender roles.  We’re not meant to understand it because we neither have it nor are human.”</p><p>“I believe you’re right although I wish for the life of me I could make heads or tails of it.”</p><p>“There are times even some humans themselves have a hard time wrapping their minds around, angel.  For a lot of human history there wasn’t really recognition of gender.  They took a look at what was between your legs, declared that’s what you were and dictated how you should behave because of it.  It’s amazing they’ve taken so long to start to figure out that’s not how their clever human minds work.”</p><p>“They’ve always been slow to change.”</p><p>“True.”</p><p>They happily watched the parade go by, or just watched the crowd itself as revelers rejoiced in the chance to be out and themselves during these celebrations.  People of all genders, orientations and from all walks of life gathered here to show their pride and let it be known their right to exist was hard-fought nor were they going to allow things to go back to the dark days when the non-heteronormative were persecuted.  Times were a bit tougher now with the shift of politics leaning more towards the right, but never again.  They would never again return to hiding in the closet and they vowed to make a world where they weren’t afraid for their own freedom, safety and very lives.  Little did they know they had a little extra protection in the form of two guardian spirits who would fight as much as they did to keep the community safe.</p><p>More of the parade marched by along with a broad-shouldered person with very pink hair who almost ran into the pair.  They called out apologies with a sheepish smile and moved on.  Behind them darted a slim dark-haired teenage boy hoping to use their bulk to hide.  He broke off to head off into the car park not far from where Aziraphale and Crowley stood.  Crowley noticed him out of the corner of his eye and all but physically smelled the desperation and despair coming off of him. </p><p>“Angel, I think we might have a problem.” </p><p>Crowley indicated the car park the boy had entered.  Aziraphale craned his neck to try to see what the demon was talking about, squinting into the dark space surrounded by large trees before turning to his companion, alarm on his cherubic face.  Crowley nodded, pushing up his dark glasses that had slid a few centimeters down the bridge of his nose.</p><p>“Right.  Thought so.  Let’s go.”</p><p>Crowley walked slightly in front of Aziraphale, wishing the crowd apart for the sake of speed.  It was wall-to-wall revelers in the street now making traveling even a small distance well-nigh impossible if it needed to be done quickly.  Slipping into the dark space between trees and buildings, Crowley’s demonic vision immediately kicked into night mode while Aziraphale stumbled along for a few moments as his eyes took a rather sluggishly long time to adjust by comparison.  He felt Crowley let go of his hand and run forward into a sunless space between a large SUV and the stairwell leading to the upper levels.</p><p>“No!”</p><p>There was the high-pitched sound of thin metal hitting pavement as Crowley yanked a rather sharp knife from the boy’s hands and threw it aside before he could do more harm to himself, but the harm was already done.  The teen’s wrists were slick with blood as Crowley grabbed them.   The boy struggled against him, crying, shouting out obscenities as he tried to flee from the demon.</p><p>Crowley was speaking to him.  “I can’t let you do that.  Whatever is going on, we can help you.”  He had the boy gently by the shoulders, preventing him from fleeing.  The boy twisted in his grasp, angry, crying, and screaming at Crowley to let him go as he pummeled the demon’s chest with his fists, his anger overshadowing the pain he had to have been in thanks to the self-inflicted wounds. </p><p>“Aziraphale, a little help, please.”</p><p>Aziraphale touched the boy’s mind lightly finding just the right area needed and the boy dropped like a stone, unconscious in Crowley’s arms.  Crowley shifted the dead weight of his body making it easier to hold him because he was not going to plop the lad right down there on the hard pavement.  He looked at Aziraphale, taking a moment to stop the teen’s bleeding even though the cuts he had managed to make weren’t deep and he would have come to no serious harm from them if Crowley hadn’t have sensed his strong emotions so they could intervene.</p><p>“Now what?”</p><p>“We’re close to the bookshop, I suggest we just pop in there,” replied Aziraphale, picking up the boy’s rucksack and peering in without rummaging through or even touching the top layers of the contents.  “I think we have a runaway.  This appears to be full of clothes.”</p><p>“All right, let’s go.”</p><p>The bookstore’s interior rippled into view and Crowley laid the boy gently down on the couch by the till while Aziraphale knelt by his hands so he could trace the air above his injured wrists to start the healing process.  To heal them completely would not be possible without giving himself away.  Crowley conjured up some bandages for Aziraphale to wrap them in, handing them to him when he needed them.</p><p>“Thank you, my love.  I wish I could fully heal them.”</p><p>“It’s either this or you announce to him you’re an angel.”</p><p>“I know.”  Aziraphale looked concerned, the worry evident in his sky blue eyes and the manner he was fidgeting with his hands.  “But what do we do?  We’re not equipped to deal with a suicidal runaway.”</p><p>He started to get up, Crowley putting out a hand to help him to his feet.  Pulling Aziraphale in close, he wrapped an arm around his waist to soothe the troubled angel.  A quick kiss was placed softly on his blond curls.  Aziraphale sighed as he looked upon the boy, somewhat soothed by Crowley’s interventions, but not completely.  They had quite the problem on their hands.</p><p>“I’m going to wake him up,” he said to the demon.  “Ready?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>They both prepared for potential panic before Aziraphale gently reached into the boy’s mind to jostle it back to a state of consciousness.  Unconsciously he reached over to grip Crowley’s fingers, the demon giving him a tight squeeze as they waited for their guest to rouse from his miracle-induced unconscious state.  Aziraphale’s accelerated breathing gave away his nervousness.  Crowley did his best to send out soothing vibes, strong enough on the emotional wavelength for his partner to pick up.  The worst thing that could happen was to have this boy panic then Aziraphale react poorly to it.</p><p>“Ok, let’s sit down somewhere and not frighten him by standing over him,” said Crowley, shooing Aziraphale over to his desk.</p><p>The boy’s eyes fluttered open, foggy and unfocused while his brain tried to make sense of where he was now compared to where he was when he last remembered being somewhere.  He recalled a car park, not what looked like an old bookshop or laying on a hard couch that had seen better days.  Sitting up, he noticed the two men nearby, one seated primly at the desk across from where he lay, the other lurking further back in the room as if he didn’t want to appear threatening to the boy by being nearby when he awoke.  He sat up, recognizing the one in the back by his red hair, black clothing and sunglasses.  Standing he nervously started to step sideways, heading towards the till where he saw an exit.</p><p>“Don’t come near me!  I don’t know who you are!”</p><p>“We’re just here to help,” said Aziraphale softly.  “No more, no less.”</p><p>“Yeah, well, I kind of have to take your word on that after you kidnapped me!”</p><p>“You tried to hurt yourself then passed out.  We just brought you back here to treat you,” the angel replied.  “You’re free to leave with a responsible adult.  I’m afraid I cannot let you go alone in your condition.”</p><p>The boy stopped short of the till, gazing from the blond to the redhead and back again.  Something about the blond made him feel at ease, like man would never raise a finger to hurt even the lowliest of creatures.  He felt he could trust him, but he had no idea why.  Still, he tested the waters.</p><p>“What do you know, sitting there with that flag on you when you have a wedding ring?  This isn’t about you nor could you possibly understand having your mother kick out because you got up the courage to actually say you’re gay and she couldn’t handle that.”</p><p>“No, I wouldn’t quite understand that,” replied Aziraphale softly as he miracled up an extra handkerchief in his pocket.  He pulled it out.  “I do know what it’s like to not have the approval of others.  To be told you’re doing everything incorrectly.  How can we help?”</p><p>“She said the most awful things to me.”  The boy sniffed, wiping his nose carefully on his sleeve before Aziraphale handed Crowley the handkerchief who passed it on to the boy.  “Like I was confused and just needed to be shown how to be normal and when I said I felt normal, she said what I was is unnatural.  It just got worse.  She was yelling at me about how wrong my feelings for guys were.  Not the first time I’ve heard such things about gays.  Must be nice to have a wife, a couple of kids to go home to and just be able to live your life.”</p><p>“I don’t have a wife and kids, but I do have a husband.”</p><p>Crowley took this as his cue to reveal himself.  “Hi.”  He held up his hand in a wave, making sure his silver wedding band was clearly visible to the boy.  “I’m the husband and we’re here to help any way we can.”</p><p>“No thanks.  Maybe you’re gay, but I still don’t know you.”</p><p>“Fair enough,” replied Crowley.  “Like my husband said, you’re free to go with a responsible adult, but that rucksack tells me you don’t have anywhere to go to.”</p><p>“I don’t need anything else.”  The boy prepared to leave, picking up his rucksack from where it sat a couple of metres from him.</p><p>“Where are you going to go?”  Aziraphale’s concern was evident in his tone.</p><p>“I don’t know.  My dad’s not answering his mobile.  He probably forgot to charge it again.  It’s going straight to voicemail.”</p><p>“You will stay until we can get a hold of him.  I was serious when I said you’re not leaving alone.”</p><p>“You won’t murder me in my sleep or anything?”</p><p>Aziraphale stood up, the unmistakable sound of wings unfurling filling the air.  He stood in a ray of sunlight, the beams hitting his wings in a way that made them glow slightly.  Crowley smiled a sly smile at him for such theatrics. </p><p>“You’re an angel?  Like for real?”  The boy blinked like his mind was not processing what he saw.  “Gay angels?  Not that I’ve heard of heterosexual ones.”  He looked at Crowley.  “What’s up with you?  You can’t be human.  Humans don’t marry angels.  You another one?”</p><p>Crowley shrugged and was smart enough this time to keep his mouth shut rather than announce he was a demon.  “Nope, I’m not human, nor will I murder you in your sleep.”</p><p>Aziraphale had tucked his wings away and was walking towards the boy.  “Here, can I see your phone?  Maybe I can help get through to your father.”</p><p>The boy handed it to him, but all Aziraphale could do was turn it over and over in his hands confused on how to get it to dial the right number.  Coming to his rescue, Crowley took it out of his fumbling grasp, got the screen up and found the boy’s contacts.  He located the one labeled “Dad” and dialed it before giving it back to the boy.</p><p>“It should work now.  It’ll go through.  Is he going to be more understanding than your mum?” asked Crowley.</p><p>“Yeah.  He’ll be ok with it.  My uncle . . . his brother’s . . . gay and he doesn’t care at all that he is.  I should have told him first.”  The boy clutched the phone, his voice becoming emotional as his father picked up.  “Dad?  Can you come get me?  I . . . I can’t really tell you over the phone, but we really need to talk.”  He looked upon Aziraphale, who was holding up a piece of paper with the bookshop’s address on it.  The boy rattled it off to his father before hanging up.  “I should be freaked out about this whole angel thing, but I’m not.  It’s like I always knew you guys were out there watching over us.”</p><p>Aziraphale just smiled.  “I’m glad you’re at ease.  It’s much easier to handle than humans who outright panic when they find out.  Thank you.  May I heal your wrists properly?  I didn’t before since I did not plan to reveal myself.”</p><p>The boy nodded and Aziraphale traced the air above them, knitting the cut skin back together.  The discomfort the boy was feeling from his wounds dissipated as they returned to a healed state.  He removed the wrappings of bandages and examined Aziraphale’s handiwork with utter fascination.</p><p>“That slaps!  It’s like it didn’t happen at all.”</p><p>“Slaps?” whispered Aziraphale to Crowley.</p><p>“He means it’s amazing.”</p><p>“How do you know?”</p><p>“I’m on the internet, angel.  It’s quite something the things you learn there.”</p><p>Now that everything was going "all right", for a given definition of that phrase, the boy returned to the couch where he enjoyed a cup of cocoa with Aziraphale while waiting.  Crowley stuck to a mug of strong coffee which he drank while sitting in a chair he pulled up from the table in the backroom.  Aziraphale wouldn’t be thrilled if he had settled himself down on the coffee table like he had no manners.</p><p>“My parents are divorced,” the boy was saying.  “Mum became all depressed and got into religion to turn things around.”</p><p>“They divorced over religion and depression?”  Aziraphale asked.  “Depression is treatable and there’s nothing wrong with religion as long as you keep it at healthy levels.”</p><p>“Well, she didn’t.”  The boy shrugged.  “Dad’s been in court trying to get custody of me.  My sister’s lucky enough to be at university so she doesn’t have to deal with this crap.  I don’t know why I said anything to her.  I knew with her way of thinking she wouldn’t understand.”</p><p>“Everyone wants acceptance,” Crowley said.  “You were just looking for it.”</p><p>“Nothing that happened was your fault.  Don’t ever forget that,” added Aziraphale.</p><p>Crowley nodded in agreement.  He looked over towards the door as the bell jingled shrilly announcing a customer.  Only this time it wasn’t a customer, but the worried father of a frightened teenage boy who was just looking for someone to accept him as he was.  Crowley gave Aziraphale a look that told him to stay right there, he’d go greet the father.  Aziraphale nodded in return.</p><p>“Hello?  Anyone here?”</p><p>Aziraphale told the boy to stay where he was as Crowley unfolded himself from his chair to swagger into the bookshop proper where a dark-haired middle-aged man who bore a striking resemblance to his son stood looking worried and confused.</p><p>“Hi.  I’m Anthony Crowley.  My partner and I saw your son running through the parade into a car park.  He didn’t seem right so we followed him,” Crowley said softly to him.  “We kept him from doing anything stupid, but his mother pushed him away and he’s feeling the rejection pretty strongly.  He had a knife and he was going to harm himself with it.”</p><p>The man registered a worried look, his eyes taking on a sadness Crowley couldn’t quite fathom.  He had never had this experience, being he was never anyone’s parent.  “I think I know what this is about and I’m afraid it’s about the reaction I expected.  Out of her and him.  Anyway, thank you so much for intervening.  I’d hate to think what would have happened if some good Samaritans weren’t there to help.”</p><p>He stuck a hand out to Crowley who grasped and shook it.  Then the demon led him to the backroom where Aziraphale sat on the couch with the boy quietly talking with him as they waited.  They both looked up as the man entered, the boy springing from his seat to run into his arms, sobbing as the two embraced. </p><p>Aziraphale approached Crowley, putting an arm around his waist.  Crowley looked at him with a small smile and leaned his head briefly on Aziraphale’s shoulder.  It did not escape the man’s notice as they said their goodbyes to the boy, wishing him well and telling him that things would get better.  He seemed to believe it, maybe more so because it came from an angel, a being that he believed would never lie to him.  In Aziraphale’s case, that was true.  The Principality was more than happy to give him some hope to cling to as he came out to those he trusted.  At his father’s request, he headed out to their car, which was parked in around the side of the bookshop away from the parade whose final entries were finally passing by the bookshop.  The three left waited awkwardly until the door shut. </p><p>“Thank you.  I’m forever in your debt.  I’ve suspected for some time he was not heterosexual but you have to wait until they tell you.  It’s not something to force as you probably know,” he chuckled nervously.  “I’m glad a couple such as you were the ones to help him.  I think it’ll help knowing that there are others like him.”  The man stammered, clearly embarrassed by his turn of phrase.  “I’m sorry.  That sounds so awful and I hope you get my meaning.”</p><p>“We do,” said Crowley.</p><p>“Good luck,” added Aziraphale, shaking the man’s hand warmly.</p><p>When the bookshop’s door closed, the two headed back to the old familiar couch where they sat quietly for a minute, Aziraphale resting his head on his husband’s thin shoulder.  Crowley’s hand went up to idly play with the angel’s blond curls.  Aziraphale’s sky blue eyes closed as he sighed at the gentle touch after an emotional afternoon.</p><p>“I do hope he’ll be all right.”</p><p>“He’ll be fine,” replied Crowley, turning to gaze lovingly at the most beautiful and kind being he had ever known.  “He has someone who understands him.  It’s amazing how you can flourish when you have an understanding someone who will always be there no matter what.”  Sliding a finger under Aziraphale’s chin, Crowley lifted his head to give him an adoring kiss bordering on passionate with overtones of how thankful he was for Aziraphale’s presence in his life.  “It gets you through a lot.  I should know.  I had you to carry me through the bad times.”</p><p>Sky blue eyes registering nothing but love, Aziraphale gave him a shy smile and returned that adoring, passionate and thankful kiss with one of his own.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you need help, please reach out to someone who cares, even if it's a volunteer on the other end of a suicide hotline in your area.  My inbox over on Tumblr is always open if you need someone to talk to.  You can the link in my profile.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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